Poetry

The Renaissance


 

In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
—W. H. Auden

 

For sun and thawing rigor
in manners, stances and features,
for giddy little creatures
cavorting, for the vigor
and badinage of the lark,
for Cokes and Sauerkraut franks
with colleagues in the park,
give thanks, give thanks.
 
For dancing and ecstatic
grins as that jazz trio
busks it up with brio
galore, for acrobatic
schoolkids done for the day,
for monkey bars and pranks
and the high of all-out play,
give thanks, give thanks.
 
For here and now, this vernal
victory over the squally
season of melancholy
indulgence, for the diurnal
human madrigal
and hibiscus on terraced banks,
for the boon of “I” at all,
give thanks, give thanks.